Due to a variety of factors (see entries for: Allergies, I hates them and My life, fuck it) I’ve been on a elimination diet for the past week and change. This elimination diet essentially means I can’t eat… well, anything fun. Basically, if you’ve ever craved it, I can’t eat it.*

This has, actually, been going well. Except for a few moments of hallucinating that R was turning into a walking, talking slice of pepperoni pizza** a la a Bugs Bunny cartoon, I’ve managed to keep the cravings at bay.*** However, I will still, on occasion, bitch to R via text when I feel like I’m going to lose my damn fool mind if I don’t have a giant chunk of lasagna right fucking now. Hence the following text exchange:

M: I would kill someone, anyone, for a taste of cheddar right now.
R: I think that’s an Ol’ Dirty Bastard line.

Well played, R. Well played.

* I almost wish there were a god so I could thank him, her or it for the fact that gin does not contain the allergens I am supposed to avoid. It’s ambrosia with a dash of lime right now.
** Roasted chicken is one of the few foods I can eat, which means I don’t have to be a dry-docked version of the cartoon-guy-starving-in-a-life-raft cliche.
*** I will fully admit that on my calendar Friday, September 28th (the day I can introduce my first food of choice and see if I react) does actually have “Cheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeese!” written on it, though. God damn I miss dairy.

M: The only big problem I have with that new HBO show Girls is that the dude who plays Adam is fucking gross.
R: Gross? Seriously? I have to see a picture of this guy.
M: Okay, here.
R: That guy is gross?
M: Correction: that guy is nasty.
R: Nasty? He looks pretty average.
M: Nasty. Eight out of ten Helens agree.
R: Okay. So, just for comparisons’ sake, if you had to choose – like, gun to your head – would you rather have sex with that dude or the dude who plays Theon on Game of Thrones?
M: Alfie Allen? Fuck. Do I have to look at him?
R: No, you can face away.
M: Ugh. No. I’ll take death rather than those two.
R: For real? Okay, okay. Who’s old? I’ve got it: Adam from Girls or Sean Connery?
M: Hell, no matter how old and crusty Sean Connery gets I’d probably go with him just for the story. ‘Cause it would be an insane and awesome story. Pointless question.
R: Damn, you’re right. What the hell was I thinking? I mean, I’d probably do Sean Connery just for the story.
M: Wait – are we assuming Mr. Connery is wearing a condom?
R: An important consideration.
M: Because neither of us should risk getting herpes just for a story.

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R: Why is there the pervasive stereotype that girls love ponies and horses?
M: Hell if I know. Why are girls supposed to like pink and purple?
R: Yeah, but I’ve met people who liked colors, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who loved horses as much as girls are supposed to. And aside from the crazy sexism, the girls like pink and purple thing actually cropping up in real life can be partially explained by the fact that so much stuff “for” girls is pink and purple based on the trope, so it just becomes the color of their stuff, you know? Then they’ll tell you they like those colors, because so much stuff that they have is in those colors. But I don’t think I’ve ever met any girl who was crazy about ponies.
M: You have a point.
R: I mean, if you grabbed an eight year old girl off the street, fuck, I don’t mean if you literally grabbed the girl off the street, I mean, if you took an eight year old girl… I, Christ, that’s also a terrible way to start a sentence, okay, if there were a hypothetical situation in which you could ask an eight year old girl whether or not she liked ponies, she probably wouldn’t care about them. There.
M: Wow. And… Yes?